


The Value in Words

by Aly_H



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ben-Hassrath observations, Can be read as no relationship or friendship at this point, Dyslexia, Dyslexic Inquisitor, Gen, Inquisition Camp, Inquisitor has a lot of paperwork all the time, Pre-Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, dyslexic character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-09-07 13:39:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16855015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aly_H/pseuds/Aly_H
Summary: Dyslexia sucks sometimes. Turns out it sucks in Thedas too. On one particular night in an Inquisition Camp in the Hinterlands (probably) it's sucking for Inquisitor Haleir Lavellan.





	The Value in Words

The Inquisitor sat with his back against the log, one arm propped up on his knee with his hand on his forehead, as if to push back his bangs. His expression had become increasingly tight over the last few hours and he’d been on the same report for some time now.

The hand drew down slightly, massaging his eyes softly before pushing back up to its previous position. Head tilting a little more and eyes narrowing further against a headache that had likely already set in.

He knew the Inquisitor was literate, but he’d often seen the elf pass off scraps of paper to Dorian or Solas or Varric to read aloud when they were in the field rather than doing so himself. Once they had settled into camp for the night and they’d become preoccupied with their own tasks the Inquisitor drew out the sheaf of reports he was expected to go over.

Golden eyes lifted up to pass over the camp at the slightest noise – in this case Sera cackling at some joke – and met the Iron Bull’s gaze. Just for a moment, and his eyes instantly dropped the empty space to Bull’s left far more interesting and the elf seemed to sink even lower into himself behind the papers.

Not Haleir Lavellan’s usual reaction to meeting his gaze. The poor Inquisitor had walked straight into a tree getting an eyeful of him a few weeks back - it was partially Bull’s fault since he’d been keen on showing off when he noticed the stolen glances.

He preferred the Inquisitor being flirty and smiling even if it did result in a bloody nose and considerable teasing when walking was involved at the same time. (The tree was not the first incident, just slightly more damaging than when he’d walked into Cullen.) The shame and embarrassment written in his posture was less…everything.

“Letters swimming and dancing on the page, like little waves in the sea,” Cole had taken a seat on the ground next to the Inquisitor now. “ _Tara, I can’t do this – a Keeper who can’t Keep isn’t much use._ He didn’t think you were useless, and he never wanted you to go.”

Haleir smiled for Cole, trying to smooth out the tense lines in his body and keep the memories from causing him to unlock, “I know – I annoyed him and could never keep up with our studies but he’s always hated when I leave. I think it still bothers him when I leave Skyhold.”

Cole drew his legs up to his chest and sat next to the Inquisitor, chin resting on them for a time in silence as the Inquisitor shifted his position once more trying to seem more relaxed than he was as his eyes returned to the reports again.

They sat in silence for a long time, the Iron Bull glancing over as he cleaned his axe.

Eventually the Inquisitor finished what he was doing, and dragged himself to his feet to find one of Leliana’s scouts so he could have his replies sent back to Skyhold as soon as possible.

The spirit turned something watched after him with a slightly distressed expression.

“What’s wrong, kid?” he asked once the Inquisitor was out of earshot.

Hal did not appreciate people prying, he wasn’t the sort to get angry but the Inquisitor would get more secretive about his struggles and the elf had more than enough on his plate trying to keep the Inquisition running.

He felt a little guilty taking advantage of Cole to get the information but if he helped the Inquisitor that helped the kid, right?

“The words don’t stick and they move,” the blond turned to look at him. “Little daggers in his thoughts - _How stupid do you have to be for your eyes to not even keep the words where they’re supposed to be_? – but he’s not, The Iron Bull.”

“Nah, he’s not,” he agreed with Cole’s assessment.

Missives, reports, books on etiquette, new spell techniques – everything that Haleir had to read and sign and write his own reports on in handwriting that the Iron Bull knew was shaky, a little too large and almost child-like in its messiness. It was a lot for anyone to handle, more so if his suspicions were true.

It was another weakness that he’d quietly leave out of his reports home. In the meantime he’d think on ways that might be able to help, or at least get the Inquisitor to talk to someone about the reading thing.

Tonight he’d find some way to distract the Inquisitor into a better mood – get Varric started on one of his over-exaggerated stories, perhaps? It was usually easy to get the dwarf talking and Hal enjoyed the stories that got told.


End file.
